Birthday Wishes
by Jeely
Summary: It's Freed's birthday! So why is no one celebrating? Freed/Laxus short, K


"Oh come on, Freed, you never stay to party!"  
"That's because unlike everyone else in this guild, I'd like to get a good night's rest before heading off on jobs in the morning."  
"You're no fun."  
"No, I'm not. Goodnight, Ever."  
"Yeah, yeah, goodnight you old tightwad."  
So dismissed, Freed paid for the one drink he'd had and stood to leave. Why everyone insisted on staying at the guild so late every night only to complain about it in the morning, he'd never know. As it were he met little resistance on his way out, and when he met the brisk night air his hopes for a relaxing, trouble-free night were lifted.  
That is, at least, until he felt a tight grip on his shoulder. The hand that held him spun him around to come face-to-face with Laxus of all people, looking thoroughly disgruntled.  
"Here," Laxus said before Freed had a chance to question the sudden encounter and thrust something hard into Freed's chest. Freed naturally reached up to take hold of the object, though his eyes remained on Laxus.  
"What is-"  
"Just open it already."  
"Y-Yes, Laxus..." Freed turned his attention to the object; it was a small box, about the size of his hand, wrapped in a thin purple bow. Curious, he pulled the bow apart and took the top off the box, sliding the lid under the bottom half for safe-keeping. Within was a black leather-bound notebook that could fit in the palm of his hand, complete with a red ribbon bookmark set into the binding and a golden lightning bolt adorning the cover. It was simple, but elegant. Functional. But why? "Laxus, what is this?"  
"It's a notebook, knobhead," Laxus reprimanded as if this were the most obvious thing in the world - which it was, of course - but changed his tone when he saw Freed start with guilt. "It's your birthday. None of these other shits were doing anything for you, so I thought.. Well, I thought you might like it. Do you?"

What? Freed looked at Laxus, dumbfounded, fishing around for something - anything - to say.  
"I- Yes, Laxus, I love it. Thank you," he finally managed. The relaxed posture and relieved smile that briefly crossed the Thunder God's face made for a much better present.  
There was only one problem.  
"Well... Good. You're taking that to work with you tomorrow, right?"  
"Of course. I will never be without it." To prove his point, Freed tucked his new notebook into a coat pocket just beneath his belt.  
"Good, good..." Laxus slid his hands into his own pockets, but shortly removed them and tucked his thumbs into his pantsline, then repeated the whole sequence. He was stalling, as if waiting for something to happen. Freed nervously cleared his throat, unsure if he was expected to respond at this point. He would have jumped on Laxus for a great, thankful hug, but he'd made a conscious effort recently to cut back on that so as not to agitate his leader further.

"Aren't you going to do something? Y'know, celebrate?"  
Laxus' latest question surprised Freed, jolting him into thought.  
The problem still remained.  
"I was hoping to forego anything too public," Freed answered smoothly. "You know how everyone here can get out of hand sometimes."  
"Yeah..." Maybe it would end there. Maybe they could both go home and rest up, and tomorrow would go on as usual. "Can I celebrate with you? It ain't something you should be spending alone."  
Or maybe he would be just as tired in the morning as everyone else. "Of course you may. I have movies at home, if you'd like."  
"Yeah, I'd like that."  
But still, the problem remained.  
Together they walked the moonlit streets to Freed's home, a modestly sized two-story house of white paneling and ochre trim, pristine bay windows graced by cheery planters, and a perfectly manicured lawn with carefully trimmed hedges that bordered a tidy stone pathway leading to the doorstep. Inside was just as tidy, all marble halls with fine rugs, a plush carpeted living room, and the hint of a grand dining hall and kitchen further in. The living room boasted a large telelacrima set into a well-stocked shelving unit full of movies and recorded programs on lacrima discs. Straight across from the entertainment center sat a deep-seated white leather couch, and behind that a wide fireplace adorned with various photos, knick-knacks, and books.

But above the fireplace, framed by a floral border, hung proudly an oversized portrait of none other than Laxus. The real deal couldn't conceal a smirk, his personal ego stroked beyond measure. Freed quickly put himself between the twin Thunder Gods before any more attention could be brought to the painting.  
"Would you like slippers, Laxus?" Freed asked, gesticulating uselessly to draw attention to himself. "It's cold, you deserve more comfort than-"  
"Nah, I'm fine. You do your thing," Laxus responded before dropping himself onto the couch. With one arm over the back of the couch and his bare feet on the mahogany coffee table, he was the very picture of comfort.  
"Right, I'll just be right back..." The rune mage bustled off to relieve himself of his coat and sword, then returned shortly after to activate the telelacrima and put in a movie at random. That done, he took a seat next to Laxus - having to step high to get to the couch over the other man's legs.  
The lights in the room dimmed automatically as the movie started to play. As it adequately held Laxus' attention, Freed relaxed back into the cushion, just barely resting against Laxus' arm.  
Still, the problem remained.  
But why spoil such a nice moment?

His strict conscience wouldn't allow him to keep quiet.  
"Laxus, there's something wrong."  
"Hm?"  
"It's..." Freed steeled himself, fully aware his pleasant night was about to shatter. "It's not my birthday."  
"...So?"  
"So... Is that okay?"  
"You never told me when it was. I improvised."  
"Oh. Thank you."  
"Shut up and watch the movie."  
Freed smiled to himself, a warm wave of relief spreading through him. His birthday wasn't for another two months, but he fully intended on spending tonight as if it were. He leaned into Laxus, and was rewarded by the arm that moved from the back of the couch to his shoulder.


End file.
